Amanda and Adam returned to Selby Bluff in mid-July for the cotton harvesting. That entailed very early starts at daybreak, long days and late finishes at dark; a work pattern that neither were at all used to. The crop was satisfactory in overall volume, but the yield per acre was low, the lowest it had ever been. Most plantation owners attributed this to the slaves getting lazier over the years; they never really gave much consideration to fact that it might be due to lack of capital investment, training or lack of management techniques on their part.
The siblings were both appalled at just how hard the slaves were made to work even with the scratched and torn hands that were part of the lot for cotton pickers. Even the oldest and frailest were made to work along with the girls and women, some of whom were clearly pregnant. Although they both hated the spectacle they knew there was nothing that could be done so they spent most of their time in the house writing letters or completing their diaries.
"Amanda I really cannot stand this any longer" Adam grunted one evening when they met for a glass of wine before dinner.
"Stand what brother?" She asked looking at Adam and realising that he was probably slightly drunk.
"These wretched souls working fourteen hours a day, seven days a week" he replied adding. "Have you looked at their poor hands?"
"No Adam" she replied not quite sure what he was talking about and thinking he might be joking. "But then I don't see their hands in close up do I?"
"What?"
Smiling she replied. "Emiline?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are her hands rougher than they used to be? You presumably see hers in close up." She smiled.
Adam realized what she meant. "Don't be ridiculous."
"What do you mean?"
"This has nothing to do with her, I am serious."
"Sorry brother" Amanda replied realising by the look on his face that indeed Adam was serious.
"It's just so horrendous how we treat them. It's not as bad as this in the slaughterhouses of Chicago, the steel mills in Pittsburgh or the garment district sweatshops in New York."
"I know darling" she whispered cradling his head in her hands as she saw that he was starting to cry.
Everything was getting on top of Amanda. She was beginning to loath the plantation and the life-style it created as much as Adam clearly did. Although she had believed that she had sorted out his financial affairs when they were in New York she was disappointed and annoyed to learn that more creditors were chasing him. One evening when he was slightly drunk and they were discussing the situation he tearfully admitted that he owed thousands of dollars that he had 'forgotten' about. The recession brought on by the collapse of the Ohio Life company had cost Amanda very heavily. As British investors withdrew funds from the US and invested them in the safer home markets so US stocks and bond prices fell, land values in the mid-west slumped, grain prices dropped severely and economic activity declined. Amanda was getting hit everywhere. Even her collection of jewelry was losing value for the gold flooding in from California was too much for the market to absorb without prices dropping, and they did. On top of that there was the situation with Strand and the conflict she had between abhorring the man yet gaining enormous pleasure and excitement from having sex with him or, she realized as that came into her mind, even the thought of having it with him. Then, of course, there was Fairfax and her 'love' for him and her spying on her 'homeland. Her life was too complicated, she was beginning to believe.
The letter delivered by an army militiaman just as the final cotton was being picked, baled and dispatched simply added to her woes.
My darling,
I am deeply and acutely aware of the imposition I place on you and it rips at my heart to do so. But there is a greater good that I seek to serve and know that you wish to help as well.
I have no doubt that when your harvest is complete and the time is right that you intend to address the business we discussed last time we met. I hate to have to press you on this, but a hasty end to the matter in hand is becoming more crucial by the day. Anything at all, my love, that you can do to help our cause with this matter will be greatly appreciated by me, of course and by others at the very highest of levels.
Your everlasting love
F
"Damn, damn, damn, damn him and all men" she groaned after reading the elegantly phrased, but overall demeaning to her letter. 'It's almost an instruction from him and those of the highest of levels to let Strand fuck me' she thought, again wondering just who knew that she had slept with the monster and how far up the chain of command it went? 'I bet even old doughface knows' she thought using the nickname for the President who she had met many time when he was the US Ambassador to the Court of Saint James in London.
She hated doing it, but tingled as she did. On a shopping trip to Meldrim she telegraphed Strand.
My Dear Sir,
Please forgive me being forward, but I am most keen to learn if there have been any developments with our mutual venture. I would be delighted to receive a telegram to advise me or, if you prefer, to attend on you to discuss the matter further.
My kindest possible regards
Your obedient servant
Amanda Williams
She had only been back at the plantation an hour or so and was just taking tea with one of the engineer's wife when she saw the courier arrive. Moments later Lucy a junior housemaid delivered the telegram to her on a silver tray.
"Excuse me Mary I do need to read this" she said fighting hard to stop her hands shaking as she opened the envelope.
My Dearest Missus Williams,
It was as delightful as it was precipitous to receive your message earlier this afternoon.
There have indeed been some developments and I was just about to contact you to invite you to meet with me to discuss them. They are fairly complicated and may require us consulting with lawyers and possibly a land surveyor as well as having detailed discussions. I was hoping, therefore that you would be able to arrange a two day visit to Savannah at your earliest possible convenience. I shall be in Savannah for the next ten days and can make myself available to you to meet your schedule. I would, though, urge you to arrange this for the earliest possible date.
Your most willing servant and friend
Oliver
"I have to go to Savannah for a few days," she told Adam after she had been into Meldrim and exchanged telegrams with Strand arranging a convenient date the Monday of the following week. She explained that it was to do with the sale of the plantation.
"Shouldn't I be there too?"
"Well Strand insisted I come alone."
"Hmmm, I wonder what he wants?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well you saw a lot of him in Washington and quite frankly Amanda, he is known as a notorious womaniser."
"Is he, I didn't know that?"
"Oh come on, you must have heard about him," he said sulkily.
"Well now you mention it Jayne Essington did rather hint that he has propositioned her."
"And others, you included I imagine."
"Actually Adam, whether he has or hasn't really is not your business is it?"
"Yes sister dear, it is, it's partly my plantation, but you go and fuck him if you think that will help sell the plantation" Adam snarled storming out.
Amanda felt a lick of heat inside her body. That was precisely her plan. They had made arrangements to have dinner together on the Tuesday, the day she arrived, when Strand had advised it will be a 'dinner a deux a la Washington' clearly implying that was when he would first take her.
In the lengthy telegram exchange between them setting up their meetings they had been highly discrete using vague phrases and near codes to explain their points. He had implored her to leave the Monday afternoon and evening free adding very undiplomatically and cheekily 'night as well' for her to meet some more of his friends. Amanda knew that he wanted to impress her by showing how popular and well-connected he was and at the same time show her off to them and illustrate what a rake he was, for she was positive he had told some or all of his cronies, de Bow included, that they were lovers. That made her wonder just how many men from both camps were aware of her loose drawers.
As usual when in Savannah Amanda stayed at the Eliza Thompson guest house. That was now run by Eliza's daughter Megan, a fifty year old spinster. She provided an outstanding and extremely confidential service in her small, exquisitely appointed and scrupulously clean facility as well as providing wonderful food. Amanda had telegraphed her booking to the guest house and Megan welcomed her like an old friend showing her to her usual room that had a balcony with floor to ceiling windows overlooking Oglethorpe Avenue and Yamacraw Village. As Milly unpacked all the clothes and stored them away Amanda rested for what she knew was likely to be a very tiring, both emotionally and physically, visit.